


healing

by relinquished



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Battle for Azeroth, nathanos abandoned the horde towards the beginning of the expansion, shortly after the battle of lorderon, sylvanas has already fucking yeeted herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 06:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relinquished/pseuds/relinquished
Summary: nathanos gets injured.





	healing

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of wordy, so i hope it's okay but! hi yes i love these two!
> 
> if you have any requests or suggestions for any wow fics, feel free to ask on my curiouscat, listed on my profile!

  
Nathanos had gotten injured while scouting around Nazmir with the Champion of the Alliance. In a truly ignorant way, too - they had gotten much too close to a major horde encampment, and while usually, he would’ve had no issue taking out the Horde troops closing in without getting himself harmed, the Draenei that had accompanied him had attracted more than just Orcs and Forsaken.

His hands tightened around his bow as he spun around to take out those of the Horde that had gathered around him when he saw the Princess - No, the Queen - charging at him on that raptor of her’s. The Queen held a burning hatred, one that would never die, against the members of the Alliance for the death of her father. Nathanos spun back around and gripped his companion’s shoulder, yanking him back and out of the fray of fighting, practically dragging him as fast as he could away from the continually growing mass of soldiers. The Draenei, a monk, quickly rummaged through a bag of his before pulling out a dark yellow orb and crushing it in his hands, transforming as they ran through the swamp. Blue skin began shifting, changing next to Nathanos, yellow spikes and horns protruding from the other, wings springing from his back as his body toppled forward and elongated. Nathanos had seen this transformation before on his scouts with the Champion, and while he was used to it at this point, it was still unsettling to see a Draenei shift so quickly into a Sandstone Drake.

Still running, Nathanos gripped the saddle that had formed on his companion, preparing to climb on, when he felt his foot get caught on a root and he stumbled, rolling to a stop with a loud groan. The drake stopped, quickly turning around to grab Nathanos, when a heavy weight suddenly dropped onto the Blightcaller, his eyes widening as he suddenly felt a blade dig itself into his skin. He roared, flipping the assailant off of him and scrambling to his feet before his vision got hazy, his body refusing to allow him to move. The blade had been tipped with poison. He stumbled backward, preparing to fall back and meet his final death at the hands of his old allies, when he felt the scales of his companion on his back. He felt himself being all but shoved onto the saddle and heard the roar of the champion as he spewed fire at the assaulters, feeling the heat and hearing the shouts of retreat as his eyes drifted shut, falling into unconsciousness.

When Nathanos had next awoken, he was in his chambers on the Kul Tiran ship he had taken to get to Nazmir on his way back to Stormwind. He knew that the monk that had accompanied him was most likely still on Boralus, but as he moved, he felt the wounds he had on his back split open more. He would need assistance getting around, and that thought itself ignited a spark of rage. He hated showing weakness to anybody, showing pain or any form of emotion aside from pure unadulterated anger or cool neutralness.

Anyone aside from Anduin.

Nathanos let a huff of annoyance out of his nose, lifting his arm to cover his face as he lay back down, as he thought of his young king. Wrynn, sweet, kind, caring, brave, Wrynn. He would have his head for having the audacity to get injured in any way. The thought of his king fussing over him, stressing out because of him, caused a wrench in his gut. He didn’t enjoy bringing the other any form of pain, whether it be emotionally or physically - much to his grief.

Luckily, a knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. He grunted loudly, alerting them to come in, glancing in their direction, and immediately recognizing them.

“Spymaster,” He sat up, feeling the skin on his back tear a bit more. He heard the popping of stitches - ah, so they had attempted to close the injuries, “Here to see if I finally died?”

The Spymaster shook his head, not moving from the doorway for a moment before moving around the small room, gathering the Blightcaller’s items as he spoke. “We’re pulling up to Stormwind Harbor as we speak,” He glanced in Nathanos’ direction, “If you need assistance moving around, I can get a guard.”

Nathanos grunted and waved him off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and shakily standing. “I will need no such thing, especially not if it is offered from someone like you-” His knees gave out under him and he fell back onto the bed, letting out a startled yelp.

The two were silent for a moment before Nathanos grunted, covering his eyes with his palms for a moment before dragging them down, looking at his visitor. “Get a guard.”

Nathanos had been assisted back to the Keep, a slight wobble in his step as he moved. The back of his jacket had been torn to shreds - Shaw said it would have to be tailored pretty heavily - so he was currently only in an undershirt he wore with his armor. As he and the guard, who had her arms looped under his shoulders, made their way up the stairs, he heard the sudden and sure stomping of footsteps approaching them. Looking up, His King was rushing towards them, Shaw and Greymane close behind.

While Nathanos had been in the Alliance, he and the old wolf had attempted to put aside their differences, even if just a little, for the sake of a mutual party. So, when Nathanos felt the arm of the guard replaced by one of Anduin’s and one of Genn’s, the shock barely existed, and he gave a weary look to the wolf. He looked over at Anduin, who was quickly attempting to multitask - trying to both assess his injuries and get him inside. Nathanos shook his head and rested his hand on the top of His King’s head, raising an eyebrow as the sun was dimmed ahead by the shade of the building.

“ My Liege, I am fine. Nothing that I haven’t dealt with before,” His voice was calm and leveled, and Anduin frowned slightly before looking towards the other side of him.

“Genn, I can take him to his quarters from here, please let the Nobles know I will be taking the rest of the day off to make sure my Champion gets the treatment he needs.” His voice was serious, giving a look into how much the king had grown since the untimely death of his father. Genn nodded and gingerly let Nathanos go, and the ranger was pulled towards a corridor and down to the two’s shared room.

Once inside, The King quickly began removing his champion’s gear - much to his amusement.

“So, is this how you intend to treat my injuries, My Darling?” His smirk was in his voice, and Anduin looked up at him with pink dusted cheeks and a pout of his own. Oh, how he dearly enjoyed teasing his love - the blushes he got in return were oh so deeply rewarding. With a gentle smack to the shoulder, Anduin pulled off the Blightcaller’s shirt, shaking his head.

“No, you fool, I can’t get a full grasp of your injuries with this shirt on.” He grumbled something under his breath before quickly moving behind Nathanos. The ranger shuddered as he felt delicate fingers trace over the still-open wounds, chewing his lip as he waited in silence. He felt the king gently tighten some of the stitches before being guided to the bed, sitting down without so much as a word. He rested his hands on his knees, feeling the bed dip as his lover sat behind him. Hands, much too warm in comparison to his cold skin, gingerly touched, gently prodded, softly traced, every single part of Nathanos’ back, earning a soft and peaceful sigh.

“Does it hurt,” The King’s voice was quiet - worried, “They haven’t closed, did you not get a shadow priest’s assistance while in Boralus?” Nathanos shook his head, making a noise with his throat.

“Truth be told," He started, chewing his lip, "I was unconscious nearly right after I had been hit - the dagger was full of poison. I assume the Monk used an ability of sorts to get rid of the substance, but the injury and loss of blood truly didn’t help in keeping me awake,” Nathanos admitted, looking back at Anduin, making note of the worried crease between his brows. He frowned slightly, turning a bit to cup his lover’s cheek in his hand and stroking along his jawline, “ I promise, My King, I’m alright. Nothing that won’t heal with your assistance.”

Anduin looked up at him, the worry between his brows disappearing as he closed his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch of the hunter. They sat there for a moment, just basking in each other before Anduin let a huff from his nose, sitting back up - but not before pressing a chaste kiss to Nathanos’ palm - and gently turning His Champion around.

“Alright, well, let’s begin.”

Anduin pressed his palm to Nathanos’ bare back, his eyes closed as he mumbled a few words of the void, feelings his hand gain pinpricks as if it had suddenly fallen asleep. Though being a priest of the light, the king had an affinity for both it and the shadow and often used it to his advantage - especially when his champion came back injured. While it was rare - Nathanos liked to pride himself on killing before he could get himself injured - it did happen, especially when fighting against his old faction.

Nathanos sat in silence, resting his chin in his palm as he felt his wound closing in real-time, scrunching his brow in discomfort. While he couldn’t exactly feel true pain anymore, there was discomfort - a tightness that he could live without feeling too often. He rolled his shoulders to release the tension, earning a gentle knock on the back of the head from the priest. He laughed softly and heard the slight annoyance in Anduin's voice.

“Stop moving,” He grumbled, “I can’t heal this if you keep fidgeting.” Nathanos could hear the small smile in his king’s voice, and it annoyed him mildly before he sighed and attempted to relax. They sat in silence for a few moments before the discomfort stopped and Anduin’s hands were removed from the other.

“This will probably need another session of healing, but it’ll heal in no time. You’re alright to move around much more comfortably, but if you feel like you need a break, please, take one.” Anduin cupped Nathanos’ jaw as he turned the ranger to him, pale blue eyes looking into scorching red ones. Nathanos softened, his posture relaxing as he nodded, obeying His King. Had anyone else told him to rest, to take time off from this war and not push himself, he would’ve ignored them and simply gone on, perhaps making himself worse in the process. He was stubborn like that, and Anduin knew it, but he also knew that he was the only person who could even hope to get Nathanos to take a moment to breathe.

Turning himself around fully, Nathanos, stilled for a moment before wrapping his arms around the king and hauling him into his lap, pressing a few chaste kisses to his lover’s jawline. He had missed the king, even if they hadn’t been separated for more than a few days, and it showed in the delicate ways he touched Anduin, exploring his body with gentle, almost hesitant hands. The king closed his eyes, letting out a gentle sigh as he tilted his head back and let His Champion press more kisses to his neck. He felt teeth graze his throat and he shuddered, his eyes opening slightly as he pulled back and cupped his hands around Nathanos’ cheeks and looked him in the eyes. There was none of the burning hatred that was once present over a year ago, nor was there any lust - he was much more used to seeing that. Instead, there was love. Pure, unfiltered love, gazing deep into Anduin’s heart that drew him nearly to tears. He breathed in deeply and bent down, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against his darling’s.

“I love you, Nathanos.”

Anduin felt gentle fingers brush the hair from his cheek as cold palms were pressed against his face softly. He kept his eyes closed, a soft smile on his face as he heard his champion’s response.

“I love you too, Anduin.”


End file.
